Tricks and Traps (Gray Spear Society Book 7) (38 page)

The basement was dark. Instead of turning on the lights, she flipped down her night vision goggles. She could see, but everything appeared sparkly and green.

She had studied the architectural plans and knew exactly where to go. Her first stop was the sprinkler system. She made her way through rooms and corridors to a wall covered with big water valves. One by one, she shut them off. The cranks were new and turned easily.

The next stop was the furnace room. Along the way, she heard footsteps. She instantly crouched down behind cover and went silent.

Two security guards with flashlights came strolling down the corridor. The columns of light looked like wide laser beams in Tawni's goggles.

She had a gun but decided to employ her gift instead. Killing was more fun that way. She waited until the guards had walked past her. She snuck up behind them and covered their mouths with her hands. She sent shadows streaming down their throats.

The men made little noise. They stumbled around as they tried vainly to inhale, but their lungs were clogged with poisonous darkness. She watched until they collapsed.

She grinned.
I have become the Angel of Death.

She continued her journey through the spacious basement until she arrived at the furnace room. She found three giant boilers and four heating units, all fueled by natural gas. The flames behind the grills glowed brilliantly in her goggles. An impressive mass of ductwork covered the ceiling.

She traced the maze of pipes until she found the main gas line. She took an explosive cutting charge from her belt and stuck it to the thick iron pipe. A radio detonator was already connected, and she switched it on.

She shut down all the boilers and furnaces to eliminate unwanted ignition sources. She made sure the room was completely dark and quiet before leaving.

She went about a hundred feet down the hallway. She took a canister of camping fuel from a pouch, popped off the lid, and placed it on the floor. With a cigarette lighter, she ignited the fuel. It would burn for a couple of hours.

She returned to the door she had used for her entry. As soon as she stepped outside, she called Norbert.

"Go," she said.

* * *

Norbert turned on the emergency lights on his van. Yellow strobes lit up the street around him.

He had been driving in circles, waiting for his cue. He sped up and raced towards the Pot of Gold Casino. Other cars cleared out of his way.

He was already close, so it only took a minute to reach his destination. He pulled into the parking lot and saw many police cars around the casino. Scattered ambulances and news vans added to the excitement. The lot still contained plenty of civilian vehicles, too.

Norbert boldly drove into the midst of the emergency vehicles and parked. As he stepped out, meandering police officers gave him curious looks. He made sure to appear confident. He wore a blue worker's uniform with the words "Citizens Gas and Power" printed on the back. His van matched his costume.

"Who is in charge?" he asked the nearest cop. "I need to talk to him right away!"

"Lieutenant Kamaka," the officer replied. "She's inside."

Norbert ran into the lobby of the casino. Even though nobody was playing the games, they still made an irritating jingling noise. He asked for guidance until he located Lieutenant Kamaka on the second floor. She was a pudgy woman with light brown skin and a flat nose. Her cap held back long, black hair.

White tape marked off several outlines on the floor. The tape showed where people had died, but the actual bodies had been removed. Large blood stains were everywhere.
Aaron made quite a mess,
Norbert thought.
Poor Sheryl must've been scared out of her mind.
It seemed like every time Aaron became personally involved in a mission, the body count skyrocketed. Restraint wasn't his style.

"Ma'am, we have to evacuate!" Norbert told the lieutenant.

"Why?" she said.

"There is a huge gas leak in the basement. Get these people out of here now!"

"I didn't hear about a gas leak."

"We detected it with the automatic monitoring system. We've been trying to call. They sent me over because nobody was picking up the phone. We didn't know about this." He pointed at the tape outlines. "Please, hurry!"

"How much time do we have?"

"If that gas reaches an ignition source, the whole building could go up like a giant bomb!"

"OK." She lifted her hands in surrender. "We'll evacuate."

She started giving orders to the other officers. With impressive efficiency, she organized a complete evacuation. Soon, people were streaming out of the casino into the parking lot.

Norbert joined the crowd.

* * *

Smythe monitored the evacuation from the surveillance room. The many displays showed everything that was happening in the casino. He was glad to see most people were leaving quickly. When he noticed some of the guards doing the same, he was spurred into action.

He spoke into the microphone, "All security personnel, do not leave the casino. Continue to protect the vault." All the guards carried radios and would hear his voice.

Some of them turned around, but others continued towards the exits.

"The rumors of a gas leak are false," Smythe added. "Remain near the vault. If you leave, you will not have a job tomorrow. Management wants all security personnel to protect the vault. There is no gas leak."

He stepped back to observe the reaction. This element of Aaron's plan was the most brilliant in Smythe's opinion. The guards were being forced to clearly demonstrate their loyalties. If they chose to protect the vault despite the risks, they would be siding with the enemy. Their reward would be death.

About a third of the guards left.

Smythe noticed a police officer playing one of the games in a room towards the back of the casino.
A soul that needs saving,
Smythe thought.

* * *

Norbert was almost at the front door of the casino when his phone rang. He stepped away from the crowd and answered it.

"Hello?"

"We have a problem," Smythe said. "A cop is trapped in a game. He's not leaving."

Norbert grimaced. "Where?"

"North-east corner. Stay on the phone, and I'll guide you. I have a map up here."

Following Smythe's directions, Norbert walked back through the casino. He eventually arrived at a room painted a striking combination of orange and green.

An officer in a blue uniform was frantically working the controls of one of the machines. The air was cool, but he was flushed and sweating.

Norbert walked up and said, "Sir, it's time to go."

The officer just shook his head and kept playing. His nameplate read "Parker." He had short, brown hair and a mustache.

Norbert grabbed his right wrist and pulled his hand away from the controls. "Sir."

"Hey!" Parker finally looked at him. "I'm in the middle of a game."

"There is a gas leak. You have to get out of here."

"Just let me play for another minute."

Parker tried to pull his wrist free, but Norbert was much stronger.

"If you stay," Norbert said, "you'll die."

"I'll go. I just..."

"You'll go right now."

Parker looked back at the game longingly.

"Do you have a family?" Norbert said.

"Yes, but..."

"A wife? Kids?"

"A boy and a girl," Parker said.

"Do you ever want to see them again?"

Parker stopped struggling. "Yes."

"I could drag you away," Norbert said, "but I won't. This is your opportunity to distinguish yourself in the eyes of God. Walk away from the corruption and death that infests this place. Rise above. Let His light guide you out."

"What are you talking about?" Parker furrowed his brow.

"Salvation. Why did you become a police officer?"

"To help people. To give back to my community."

"And I was sent to help you." Norbert released Parker's wrist. "Go back to your family and love them. They need you."

Parker swallowed.

"I have to go now. I pray you'll follow me. If you don't, your children will grow up without a father."

Norbert slowly walked away. He didn't glance back.

He called Smythe on the phone. "How do I get out of here?"

"There is an emergency exit," Smythe said. "Take the next two rights, then a left. It's in a brown room."

"Thanks." Norbert hung up.

He heard footsteps approach from behind. He smiled as Parker caught up to him.

"You saved my life," the officer said quietly.

"It was my privilege."

Norbert soon found the emergency exit. A sign warned of an alarm, but he opened it anyway. Nothing happened. Smythe had already turned off that system.

Norbert emerged into the darkness behind the casino. He smelled food rotting in a nearby dumpster.

"Get away from here," he said.

"What's your name?" Parker said.

"You don't want to know me. Please, go."

Parker hesitated. Norbert feinted right and then went left. He snatched Parker's gun from its holster, clicked off the safety, and aimed it at the officer's face.

Parker raised his hands in surrender.

"Run!" Norbert roared.

Parker ran off.

Norbert tossed the gun into the nearby dumpster. It was nickel-plated junk, not worth keeping.

He heard the slightest noise. He spun and grabbed Tawni by the arms with a powerful grip. The coarse fibers in her body armor felt rough against his palms.

She squirmed. "How did you know?"

"You're getting quieter," Norbert said, "but not quiet enough. Keep training."

She pouted. He released her.

"Who was that guy?" she said.

"Just somebody who needed a little help remembering why he was put on this Earth." Norbert called Smythe on the phone and said, "Go."

* * *

Smythe exited the surveillance room cautiously. He sprinted down the empty hallway to a large office. Bright yellow upholstery covered all the furniture.

He tossed a chair through a plate glass window. He climbed out onto the roof of the third floor and checked for threats reflexively. He was on the back side of the casino, which was relatively quiet, but he still expected the noise of breaking glass would attract attention.

He quickly worked his way down the building, dropping from level to level. As soon as he touched the ground, he pressed a button on a remote detonator clipped to his belt.

He walked off calmly.

He imagined the explosive charge cutting the large gas line in the basement. Natural gas would flood the room and spread quickly from there. The magic ratio was fourteen pounds of air to one pound of methane. When this mixture found an ignition source, it would combust violently. The canister of burning camping fuel would be that source.

A blue van with the words "Citizens Gas and Power" printed on the side drove up to Smythe. Norbert was at the wheel, and Tawni was riding shotgun. Smythe climbed in through the side door.

As they were driving away, Tawni said, "That was easy."

"It usually is when Aaron can plan effectively," Smythe said.

They stopped at the edge of the parking lot near the exit. Norbert and Tawni rolled down their windows. A large crowd was standing in front of the casino at a respectful distance.

The explosion disappointed Smythe at first. He was hoping to see a giant fireball rising to the heavens. Instead, the building just shuddered, and all the windows blew out.

"That's it?" Tawni said.

"Patience," he said.

They waited and watched.

Smythe noticed Norbert was grinning. "You seem very happy."

"I saved a cop's life tonight," Norbert said. "Not just his body, but his soul. It reminded me why I do this job."

"That's great."

"And I killed two guys with my gift," Tawni said. "I filled their lungs with toxic darkness."

Smythe glanced at her. Her eyes gleamed as she watched the casino eagerly. Her black hair and brown skin made her almost invisible in the dark van. He turned away.

Smoke began to pour from all the windows of the casino.

"That's it," he said. "Let's go home."

* * *

A phone call woke Cantrell. He had two women in bed with him, and he had to clamber over them to reach the phone.

"Hello?" he said in a gravelly voice.

"Did you hear the news?" Konstantin answered in his distinctive Russian accent.

"No."

"Your casino is in flames."

"Huh?" Cantrell sat up and rubbed his eyes. "How?"

"I presume your enemy came back to finish the job."

"But there are sprinkler systems. The entire building is brand new, and everything is up to code. It's supposed to be fireproof." Cantrell shook his head in disbelief.

"The facts are what they are," Konstantin said. "I had fourteen men in there, and all are presumed dead. I've lost a quarter of the Company in the last few days."

"I feel your loss."

"Do you really?"

Cantrell didn't, of course. The lives of some scruffy mercenaries meant nothing to him.

"I'll rebuild. I have plenty of money stashed away for emergencies."

"Good," Konstantin said, "because you still owe me for this month, and I'm not in a patient mood. I'm sure you understand my unease. Considering the losses I've sustained, some additional compensation would be appropriate at this point."

Cantrell had no intention of paying that bill. He had to survive on his savings for a while, and every penny was precious. Money was life in this game.

"Don't worry. I always meet my obligations. What about my bodyguards?"

"They'll stay with you," Konstantin said. "Until I get paid, I want to know where you are at all times. I heard you're flying out in the morning. Where are you going?"

Cantrell was regretting his decision to use mercenaries as bodyguards. It gave Konstantin too much leverage. Cantrell had become a captive of his own employees.

"San Diego."

"Then to Mexico?" Konstantin said.

"Probably. I'm not sure. Getting away from here is my first priority. If you want to get paid, it's in your interest to make sure I get to San Diego alive."